Alle Kapitel von Silent Flames, Forbidden Paths: Kapitel 41 – Kapitel 50

Oh, the rumors?They don’t just spread—they erupt like a teenage wildfire with glitter, venom, and no mercy.Here’s what goes down after detention, in all its chaotic, dramatic glory.By the next morning, the school was buzzing. Like, hornet-nest-was-kicked levels of buzzing. I hadn’t even stepped into the damn corridor yet, and I could already hear it. The whispers. The smirks. The side-eyes.It was like every locker I passed whispered "slut" in stereo surround sound.“Did you hear what happened in Mr. Douglas’s class yesterday?”“Nick Morgan threatened Kayla with nudes—said he had her tits on his phone or something!”“All because of Alina. What is she, some kind of witch? Got that b

As I left the group chat, feeling like I had just slammed a door in someone’s face without even meaning to, my phone buzzed again.A new message.From Nick.Nick: “Don’t think anything about it. You know I’m here for you—and I always will be.”Just that.One single sentence.And yet it was more than anyone else had said to me all day.Not a question. Not a pity-soaked “Are you okay?” or “What did they say?”Just... him. Quiet. Solid. Like a wall I could lean on without needing to explain why I was collapsing.And God, I loved that.Maybe I’m becoming addicted to that kind of support.Maybe that’s exactly why I was ever drawn to Mr. Wright in the first place.Because before Nick, before this chaos, before the rumors and the hallway and the suffocating need to either scream or disappear—there was him.Cristiano Wright.

“Who is this boy you’re always with?”Oh.So he noticed.He noticed.The question hung in the air like smoke, curling around the walls of the room, stinging a place in my chest I thought had already turned numb.I stared at him.I shouldn’t have.But I did.Because for a second—just a second—I forgot how to breathe.I thought he’d ghosted me. Wiped me from his mind like I’d been nothing more than a passing inconvenience. A glitch in his perfect little world. I thought he didn’t care, didn’t see me, didn’t feel a damn thing.But he had noticed.He saw.And for one twisted heartbeat, something inside me flared to life.Was it joy? Relief? Hope?I don’t know.But it died quickly.It died the moment I looked at his face—the furrow in his brow that wasn’t quite concern, the way his mouth was set a

Nick must’ve called me a thousand times.Or maybe a million. I wouldn’t know. I silenced my phone hours ago and buried it under my pillow like it was a ticking bomb. Every vibration against the mattress felt like a fresh slap to the face—a cruel reminder that the world still expected me to answer. To explain. To pretend I was fine when I wasn’t.But I’m done bleeding for people who don’t even notice I’m cut open.Why should I hurt myself for anyone else? They don’t deserve that power.So I did what I always do—I pulled myself together, or at least pretended to. I dragged my body into the washroom, splashed water on my face until I couldn’t feel it anymore, until the girl in the mirror stopped looking like she was seconds away from breaking. Then I dried off, exhaled fire, and walked back into the room with the blank, practiced expression of someone who’s mastered the art of faking it.I needed a distraction.Something easy. Mindless. Safe.So I opened that drama I’d been meaning to wa

He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees, fingers interlaced like he was praying for patience.But he wasn’t praying.He was waiting.His eyes never left mine. Unblinking. Unrelenting.And then—He spoke.Cold. Quiet. Controlled.“Are you proud of yourself?”The words didn’t slam into me.No—they sliced. A scalpel across skin. Precise. Clean. Deadly.My stomach dropped so fast I almost lost balance.My heartbeat? Gone. Just static now. A white noise in the back of my mind, like an old radio that couldn’t quite find a signal.“I—I don’t know what you mean—”He arched one brow with the kind of disapproval that didn’t need volume.“Don’t insult my intelligence,” he said. “You know exactly what I mean.”“I don’t know!” I choked, breath catching. “Please… guide me…”Something flickered across his face—amusement? No. Annoyance? Probably. Pain? Maybe. But whatever it was, it was gone in a blink.He leaned back, putting space between us, as if my confusion physically repulsed h